


More Like Two Different Coins

by LadyAuroraKnight



Series: Harry Potter: The Legends Reborn [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Crossover, Gen, Merlin AU, Merlin Crossover, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-19 14:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1473787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAuroraKnight/pseuds/LadyAuroraKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's year was already off to a rough start - it's not easy finding out you're the Great Wizard - but now he's learned that his former best friend is currently his most hated enemy. Draco's not reacting well to the memories and on top of that, Harry's been selected for the Triwizard Tournament against his will. Something sinister is afoot, and the stakes are rising the longer he takes to figure it out.</p><p>Sequel to "How Harry Became Merlin."<br/>AU for Merlin Season 5</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shared History

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the sequel of "How Harry Became Merlin", part of the the series "Harry Potter: the Legends Reborn".
> 
> This work is rated Teen only because of some minor swearing at the moment. 
> 
>  
> 
> **First timers to the series:**
> 
>  
> 
> This work is the second in a series. While the first chapter of this story does a small bit of summarizing 'How Harry Became Merlin', you won't get the full effect unless you read it first.
> 
>  
> 
> **For those of you continuing with the series:**
> 
>  
> 
> I'm grateful, and I hope you enjoy this one as much as the first. You'll find that the first chapter is Harry's reflection on the events of the first story - a summary if you will. But I have also posted the second chapter so that you won't be kept waiting on Draco's reactions.

It was still the beginning of fourth year and already so much had happened. Harry still couldn’t believe that he’d learned he was Merlin, and not only that but remembered every detail with the precision of having lived it. While it initially had seemed like he was housing two different souls, Harry had eventually come to realize that the memories were just that – memories, not an old life hanging onto a new one, but a consciousness that disappeared when accepted as his own, leaving only the sharp details in his memory. In such a short span of time, he had aged nearly a century.

Harry occasionally liked to reflect on it.

His first week had been filled with strangely hovering magic and mysterious humming from a Charms Award Harry had later recognized as the Cup of Life. Soon after came the whispering voice that was so like parseltongue and yet not. He'd found it was a dragon, held in a room he didn't know existed. That had just been the start.

The dragon had recognized him immediately: “Merlin,” it had said, as though welcoming an old friend, but Harry hadn’t understood. So the dragon had done what it did best – it manipulated him to make the decisions that set destiny on its course. And though Harry now felt kin to Kilgharrah, he could never shake the annoyance that came with Kilgharrah’s disregard for his right to make a choice.

Anyway, he’d gone down the same path, believing himself to be in control – an idea that was snuffed when he’d found the book with the golden magic. It had felt wonderful just to touch it again, to relive the amazement and the comfort that came with knowing he was connected to something so profound. The magic had fought its way into his soul, finally having found its long lost vessel. The problem was, he was inexperienced, and it activated power he hadn’t imagined existed, and therefore couldn’t control. And so the wonder only lasted a short while before the fear of what the magic meant began to kick in.

Then the memories had come, first in spurts and then by the droves. Hogwarts’ innate magic called to him from every corner, but still Harry refused to look inside the spell book he’d found. It wasn’t until he had nearly been driven mad by the book’s call that Harry finally relented, opening the book and causing the cascade of memories that revealed everything. With that had come the worst of it – the pain, the sadness, the disbelief and the denial that he could be the greatest wizard of all time. There had been headaches, arguments and battles of will against the powerful wizard, but when Harry had stopped fighting and finally looked, he’d realized the truth, and wondered why he'd been so stubborn.

With he and Merlin as one person, his magic and skill had flourished. Magic became as visible to him as colour. His wand finally adjusted his loyalties and spells came to him with little effort. It was truly amazing, except he couldn't share any of it, not with Hermione and Ron, not with his housemates, and certainly not with his Professors - at least not if he wanted to be treated the same, or to keep his identity from the Ministry. So he'd tried to hold back in every class, to seem like a fourth year student, but even then he'd excelled, and been the recipient of many a lecture about not doing his best. His knowledge of herbs and remedies had boosted his understanding of potions, but hadn't won him any favours with Snape. The potions master had nearly marched him to Dumbledore then and there for even _suggesting_ the remedy they were making was useless and there was a much better potion out there. Coupled with the fact that Harry still had trouble brewing new draughts, it was obvious his performance certainly wasn't going to win him any awards.

Then Hermione and Ron had begun to get sick of his secrecy, and had taken measures of their own. Hermione had initially been angry at Harry's use of the golden magic, but had suddenly withdrawn, going to the library every evening and giving Harry odd stares in all his lessons. Ron was the polar opposite, either ignoring Harry or arguing with him. Harry wondered if he should just tell his friends, but he couldn't see any positive outcome to that, and chose to avoid them instead. That had proven more difficult than he thought and Harry spent endless hours dodging questions and ignoring suspicions cast in his direction. He'd become all but a hermit, spending his lunch and break in the common room, looking at the fire.

Not long after, Harry's doubts about being Merlin had come out to play in a nightmare. The idea of being the head of the Ministry of Magic had troubled him, and in his dream, Harry was running, denying his identity, ending up in the dungeons. He'd heard a familiar voice – the voice of a friend long dead, and had looked up with hope, only to find _Draco._ His disbelief provided no comfort. The link of destiny still joined them even after all these years, and waking up to find such an unwelcome fact had soured his day significantly. It bothered him so much that he'd snapped at Hermione and Ron several times, eventually realizing that he needed to talk to someone. That is, someone who wasn't the dragon because he knew how that usually ended.

For some reason, he'd chosen Hagrid as his confidante. He supposed it was because the half-giant had been the first wizard he'd met, and the first one to protect him. But most importantly, Hagrid had believed Harry about his predicament, and about Merlin. So he'd marched to the half-giant's hut, desperate for some advice. Hagrid had been more than a little awed but very willing to give him help, even if Harry felt the advice wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear. And in the end, Hagrid had been right - Harry was doing his friends an injustice by keeping them in the dark.

Before Harry could make the decision of when and where to break the news to Hermione and Ron, he'd found his choice made for him. The very next day, Hermione and Ron had essentially chaperoned him to lunch and insisted he wasn't leaving until they'd been given some answers. It would have been touching if it wasn't so embarrassing. All the Gryffindors had watched half in fear, half in amusement as his friends dragged him in the Great Hall like a prisoner. But Hermione and Ron had been so surprised when he'd agreed to their demands that they'd let him go, hesitating only a minute before following him out the door and to someplace more secret.

Their reactions were something else. Ron hadn't believed him – he'd expected that – and Hermione was convinced that he was possessed. Harry would have found that laughable if he hadn't thought the same thing himself just days ago. He'd led them to the forbidden forest in an effort to show them irrefutable proof. Harry had conjured up memories of his former life on the surface of the water, allowing his friends to see a deconstructed, un-god-like Merlin. He hoped they would see how similar Merlin actually was to him and understand.  
  
Hermione had clutched her wand in her hand as she watched, ready to face down the great wizard if necessary, but she had come around when she'd seen the huge thing that connected him and Merlin - dumb luck. Ron acknowledged it too, but found it difficult to reconcile with his own preconceptions about Merlin. However, Ron actually went within a two metre berth of Harry, so he considered that a victory.

The next few days had been full of awkwardness, silence, and hidden elephants in the room. Hermione eventually found some peace with the whole thing, and Harry made more of an effort to joke about the things they always had, hoping he and Ron would find some common ground. That had worked for a while until Ron began avoiding them both. Harry assumed Ron was still overwhelmed and figured it best to let him process things in his own way.

But just as things were getting better, he'd run into Draco. The Slytherin had started an argument and once realizing he was bested, had insulted Hermione's blood status. Harry had been surprised at the sudden drop of books behind him, indicating Hermione's return from the library, and quickly moved to stop a confrontation. As usual with Harry, though, nothing ever went to plan. It was bad enough knowing that Draco very well might be – oh gods, who was he kidding anyway, Draco _was_ – Arthur. But Draco was sending insults his way, baiting that part of him that _hated_ the Malfoys and he felt himself responding, escalating things when he should have just _calmed down_.

Then Malfoy had said it.

"I could take the mudblood down with one swipe of my wand, and _you too_."

Harry's heart nearly stopped. He couldn't move, couldn't think, but the retort escaped his lips so easily that he wondered if it had been fate acting through him.

"I could take you down with less than that."

The memories replayed in Harry's head and he breathed in, barely hearing Draco's taunt of "Come on then! Come on!"

And he had. His magic had just left him, pulling the carpet directly out from under Draco's feet and the Slytherin wizard fell back, hitting his head on the floor.

Harry swallowed nervously. Draco had sat up then, his eyes following something Harry couldn't place and he wondered, _is Draco remembering?_

Hope and dread battled in his gut, but the finality came when Draco muttered, "Not Potter, _anyone_ but Potter."

Harry couldn't describe how much that both hurt and angered him, so he put on a farce.   
  
"Welcome back, Arthur," he said with feigned exasperation.

"Shove off, _Merlin,_ " Draco snapped.

And Harry was filled with equal bits of hope and sadness as he watched Draco leave the room.

 


	2. A Reluctant Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco's been a bit off since the big reveal, but can Harry convince him to accept his past?

It had been a week since Malfoy approached them for an insult, and the other students were beginning to notice. Harry worried. Learning that he had a whole other life in the past was one of the most unnerving experiences Harry had ever been through. He could only imagine how hard Draco was taking it. Harry turned around to glance at said Slytherin, just as two students confronted Draco.

"What happened to you, Draco? You've lost your nerve," Blaise said pointedly.

Draco glared.

"Are you questioning _my_ loyalty to Slytherin?" he spat, "You had _better_ have a good reason for this, Zabini."

"I'm not the only one that's noticed you going easy on Potter and the Gryffindors," Blaise accused. "You haven't even called Granger a mudblood for days now!"

Draco looked visibly cross at this.

"Have they blackmailed you?" Pansy asked, concerned.

"No," Draco said.

"Have they threatened you?" she tried.

" _No,_ " Draco nearly hissed with frustration.

"Then _what_?" Blaise asked angrily.

"It's none of your bloody business, _Zabini_ , so keep your nose where it belongs," Draco exclaimed, before tossing his food down and coolly trotting out of the great hall.

Harry watched Draco leave and glanced about cautiously before grabbing his things and following the former king. Flicking his wand, he whispered, " _Insisto,"_ and followed the golden line that appeared. He found Draco standing on one of the balconies alone and cautiously walked out to meet him. Draco sighed as Harry entered and motioned to the spot next to him.

"I figured it was only a matter of time," he said irritably.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How are you?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "Frustrated. Furious! I want to hate you but these memories make it impossible."

Harry smirked. "I see we're learning words with 'F' today."

"Shut up _Merlin,_ " Draco said reflexively. "This isn't funny!"  
  
A wave of something overcame the Slytherin wizard and he held his head, leaning heavily on the balcony rails.

"No, it isn't," Harry acknowledged sadly. He folded his arms for warmth. "If it's any consolation, I never in a million years would have pegged you for Arthur."

"It's not," Draco spat.

He stopped cradling his head, but Harry could tell that Draco still had an intense migraine, just by the way the wizard flinched at the light.

Draco sighed. He'd allowed Potter to follow him with the hope he could glean some answers, which meant that instead of arguing, he was actually going to have to ask some questions. 

"Blending these memories with my life now is an impossible task," he said. "How did you do it?"

Harry sighed too. "Time," he said.

Draco cringed again as a memory clawed at him. "This isn't time for you to be cryptic. I need to know," he said angrily.

"I'm not," Harry said. "I hated it at first; I thought I was possessed. After a while, I realized I actually needed to talk to Merlin, to listen to what he had to say."

"And then?" Draco prompted.

"I accepted him," Harry explained. "We aren't separate anymore; he's me and I'm him."

Draco shook his head angrily. "No," he said.

"No, what? I gave you an answer. What more do you want?" Harry asked.

"Have you ever thought that I _don't_ _want_ to _accept things_ , _Potter_?" Draco spat _._ "You knew _exactly_ what you were doing when you said those words. You _knew_ I'd remember."

Harry glanced anywhere but Draco's face, knowing that was truth. No matter how much of it had been fate, he'd wanted confirmation, and he'd wanted Arthur back. 

"Draco, just listen to me," he pleaded.

"No, Potter, _no_."

Harry advanced a step.

"Get _away_ from me! You and your – your _old magic_ and your _history_! I don't want _any_ of it!"

He let himself fall back to a sitting position on the floor. "I'm a pure blood wizard, _not_ King Arthur… _not_ a bloody muggle king!"

For once Harry wasn't sure what to do. He'd known this process could go either way - both Draco and Arthur were stubborn as mules - but hadn't expected the intensity of Draco's reaction. He could only imagine the battle going on inside the Slytherin wizard's head. After all, Arthur had learned tolerance, and Malfoy was the antithesis of it.

He knelt down next to Draco.

"You have to stop fighting it," Harry said softly. "The more you fight the more difficult it'll be."

"Stop fighting, and then what? Become a self-righteous git like _you_ , _Potter_?"

Harry frowned, some of his natural frustration with Draco resurfacing.

"Malfoy, you are a piece of work, you know that?"

Despite his irritation, though, Harry pitied the wizard. He couldn't just leave him this way. Harry shuffled cautiously in front of Draco, hands hovering over the sides of the wizard's head, unsure of how his gesture would be received.

"Draco, just let me help you," he offered.

Draco pushed him back. "Stay _away_ ," he demanded.

"You need me," Harry said. "I've been though this process and I know what it's like."

"Doesn't mean I have to listen to anything you say," Draco countered.

"Well let me tell you something you should listen to," Harry said with cool anger. "Based on the pain you're in, and the fact you and Arthur are both bloody stubborn asses, that means the process of reincarnation is accelerated."

There was a pause, as Harry allowed Draco to consider that.

"That won't mean a lot to you yet, but it will, because when that happens your migraines get worse. Do you know _why_ they get worse? Because the memories haven't been accepted and integrated. If that continues, one of three things will happen:  
  
1: You'll win. Arthur will be erased."  
  
He could see Draco's eyes light with hope at that one.

"2," he continued, "your mind will break into two and you'll end up with split personalities."

Draco cringed.

"3," Harry said ominously, "Arthur will win. You'll be erased. Draco Malfoy will _never have existed._ "

He gave Draco a minute to process that before telling him the worst and final news.

"The sum of your memories as Arthur is a lot greater than the sum of your memories as Draco. Which do _you_ think will win?" he asked.

Draco gulped. He'd never seen Potter this...intimidating, this cold, this wise. Potter's eyes spoke volumes. Draco glanced away, refusing to let the fear control him. His father had taught him to respect powerful wizards, including Merlin, but he couldn't find it in himself to respect _Potter_. Yet he couldn't deny the things Potter was saying, because Draco knew these things weren't coming from Potter, but the memories he held from centuries ago. So respecting Potter or not, he had to respect the knowledge, and he would be damned if he let his stubbornness be the end of him.

"Let me help you," Harry said again.

Draco nodded. Harry knelt, placing his hands in the same position from before.

" _L_ _íhting,"_ he commanded.

Draco stiffened, uncomfortable at first but then visibly relaxed as the conflicting ideas and memories stopped fighting in his head.

Harry sat back against the wall next to Draco.

"It's not easy to blend two stubborn personalities," he said, "but you should be feeling a little less at war with yourself. It will buy you more time."

Draco nodded. He made to move but Harry stopped him.

"You should know that this is just a temporary solution. Sooner or later you'll have to make a choice."

There was a finality to that statement, an inevitability that made Draco uncomfortable. How could he ever truly accept this?  
  
"For the record..." Harry trailed off, losing his nerve.

Draco turned toward him, curious. "You might as well say it now that you've started," he muttered, feigning disinterest.

Harry frowned but Draco could tell it wasn't a real frown; it was natural irritation, banter. He knew Potter would answer.

"For the record," Harry continued. "I'd prefer option 4: both of you, together."

Draco looked up, surprised and uncomfortable with the sentiment. He'd forgotten how this felt – having proper friends. Yes, he had Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy and such but they weren't friends, not really, they were just followers. And the memories of having Merlin's friendship were overwhelming. Merlin had somehow always known what Arthur needed, and it made Draco long for a person who truly understood him like that. Just... _why_ did it have to be _Potter_?

He chanced a look at the Gryffindor student, pondering that yes, it bloody made sense for Merlin to be _Gryffindor_ , and bitterly wondered what to do now. Should he accept this? Should he fight it and take the chance that he might disappear?

"Draco?" Harry asked.

Overwhelmed and unable to process, Draco chose to shut all the feelings out.

"We're done here," he said coldly, and without looking back, he walked away.

"Forever a _prat,_ " Harry said, but knew he was actually annoyed with the fact that this was out of his control. The process of melding could not be forced through a spell, and Harry knew that constantly trying to convince Draco would just make the wizard angry. Ultimately, Draco had to make the choice.  Harry just hoped he made the right one.


	3. Destinies are Troublesome Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco are off to a rough start. But when dark events start to fall into place Draco and Harry find they have no choice but to rely on each other.

Harry sat somberly on a slab of rock, facing the dragon.

"It's been a while since I've asked for your advice," he said softly.

"Indeed," the dragon agreed.

"Draco doesn't want to be Arthur," Harry continued. "He doesn't want the memories, and he doesn't want me around."

Kilgharrah sunk back in thought, before finally breathing a small tuft of fire.

"You must give him _time_ , Merlin," he answered. "He will need to think, much like you did."

Harry stood up with agitation and began to pace.

"But he's _Draco_! What if he decides that he can't be bothered? Or –or what if he just hates me so much that it doesn't _matter_ that he's Arthur and I'm Merlin? What then? I can't just stand by and _watch_ him become a _Death Eater_!"

Kilgharrah sighed, knowing he had no comforting information to give.

"I fear you have no choice. The destiny that connects you now is similar to the one you shared with Morgana. It can tip in either direction. He is at a crucial point, Merlin. If you were to approach him now, you might condemn him to be your enemy forever."

The idea of Arthur being a permanent enemy caused bile to rise in his throat and Harry's magic reacted to the strength of his emotions. His irises turned gold and the cave shook heavily, sending multiple stalactites falling to the floor. When one of the falling rocks nearly hit him, Harry was shaken out of his anger. This caused a chain reaction of emotions that Harry could hardly begin to sort through, and he leaned sadly against the wall, slowly lowering himself until he was sitting with his arms draped over his knees. He glanced at the dragon with frustration.

"This is one situation, young wizard, where you must be patient. Approach him when he is ready to hear your words, and not before," Kilgharrah advised.

"How will I know when that is?"

Kilgharrah chuckled.

"You will know," he said, and settled back into the darkness to sleep.

Harry looked forlornly at the floor for what seemed like minutes before pulling himself together enough to stand. He knew from experience that the dragon would converse with him no more today, and so he quietly slipped out the door, alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Draco sat at the window, staring out into the darkness. He'd spent the day looking up charms of forgetfulness and time turners only to find the useful books were in the restricted section. Now he was tired, achingly tired, and he longed to return to the beginning of yesterday. Yesterday, everything made _sense_. Yesterday, he wasn't bloody _King_ _Arthur_.

He sat back forlornly, gazing blankly at the floor. Everything within him was warring:

Magic was foreign. Magic was standard.  
His father was a tyrant. His father was a death eater.  
Everyone was important. Muggles were dirt.  
Merlin was his _friend._ Harry was his _enemy_.

Draco put a hand to his head to alleviate the headache that was quickly forming. Whatever Merlin had done, it was only a temporary reprieve. _Harry_ , he corrected, _not Merlin_.

One of the boys with whom Draco shared a dorm glanced up. "Draco, you alright?"

"Of course I'm alright you bloody half-wit," he muttered. "Mind your own business."

The guy tsked and continued with his homework. Draco sighed.

_Merlin would have seen through that. He'd have called you a right prat, but he'd have listened to you._

Draco jumped to his feet, his hands entwining with his platinum hair in frustration.

_Get out of my head!_

He grabbed his wand and headed for the common room.

_I need to hex something. Now._

* * *

It was early when Harry awoke, but he could hardly think about the arrival of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students today. Harry sighed and wondered if sleep would even be an option for the rest of the week. He pulled on his robes and decided a walk might help him to sort things out in his head, as long as he avoided Filch and Mrs. Norris. He made his way out of the Gryffindor common room and into the corridor when his gaze suddenly met Draco's. Harry paused.

 _What's Draco doing outside our common room?_ _Did he come to talk?_

The Slytherin student quickly looked away and Harry filled with hope.

_Is it time?_

Draco began to hurry away. Not wanting to lose his window of opportunity, Harry made his way down the spiral staircase to catch the wizard. Draco continued walking hurriedly but Harry caught up and put a hand on his shoulder. Draco turned around abruptly.

" _What_ , Potter? What could you _possibly_ have to say to me?"

Harry let go as though burned, and glanced anywhere but Draco's face.

"I thought..." he began. "I guess I was wrong."

"I guess you were," Draco said.

"I don't get you, Draco. Why come all the way to the common room just to fight with me?"

Draco was at loss for words. He wasn't actually sure why he'd come all the way to the Gryffindor common room. He'd awoken early with this urge to go for a walk, and that walk had lead him here.

Harry could see the uncertainty. "So you _do_ want to talk to me," he said wryly.

"I don't want anything, least of all from _you_ , Potter," Draco said sharply.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever you say, Malfoy," he said.

Draco frowned. Last year Potter would have muttered some angry comment and stormed off, but now, it was like he could see right through the Slytherin wizard. Harry had said he didn't get Draco, but Draco figured that for a lie. Harry could easily tell how bothered Draco was about this whole thing, and how much he needed someone to help him sort through it. Draco wasn't used to feeling this needy, and he hated it.

"I don't know who I am anymore and it's all _your_ fault!" Draco exclaimed.

Harry could hear the desperation in his voice. It was unlike Draco, and it was unlike Arthur. That voice only came out to play when Arthur felt things were completely out of his control. He hated seeing his friend that way.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"So you _should_ be," Draco spat, and turned to walk away.

* * *

 

No one, not even Harry, was expecting the sudden emergence of his name from the Goblet of Fire. Harry sunk down a little further, hoping not to be noticed, but Dumbledore continued to call his name. With a sigh, he finally stood, taking in the gazes of loathing and suspicion, including Ron's, and walked to what seemed like his doom. Arguing broke out once he arrived in the champions' room but it was decided that rules were rules and he'd have to participate. Harry nearly cursed. This was _not_ good. If he were to participate in this, he'd very likely win. Furthermore, if Harry used his magic to unbind the contract that tied him to the Goblet of Fire then suspicion would run high and he'd be investigated by the Ministry of Magic. Reluctantly, Harry resigned himself to take part, but knew he'd have to figure out a plan of sorts.

He ran into Ron in their shared dorm not long after, and somehow he just _knew_ the conversation wasn't going to be pleasant.

"I'd ask how you did it, but you're bloody _Merlin_. Age line's probably _child's play_ to you, isn't it? Might've let your best friend know, though, if that's what I even am to you anymore."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to that.

"I didn't ask for this to happen, Ron. And of _course_ you're my friend. You're just being a bit stupid about all this." He said.

"Yeah that's me. Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's _stupid_ friend."

"This may come as a surprise to you," Harry said dryly, "But I didn't put my name in that cup. I don't _want_ eternal glory, I just want to be left alone."

"Sure you do," Ron retorted.

"Come on. You know me better than that," Harry protested.

"Do I?" Ron whispered angrily. "I'm not sure how much I really know you since this whole thing happened."

"We've had this conversation a million times. I'm not sure what else I can say to convince you," Harry admitted.

"Yeah, well, answer me this: How does _Merlin_ not know how his name got into the Goblet of Fire?"

Harry glanced behind him at Seamus, Neville and Dean, who were thankfully sleeping soundly.

"Mind saying that a little louder?" he asked sharply.

"You still haven't answered me," Ron spat.

"Because I'm not all-seeing and all-knowing!" Harry whispered angrily, "So _no_ , I don't know what happened tonight and I don't know why. It just _did_ , okay?"

Ron hauled the covers up with a frown and turned over. " _Piss off,_ " he muttered.

"Fine," Harry said, and tried to fall asleep.

* * *

Not only did Harry have to put up with the entire school giving him the cold shoulder, Draco had also been remarkably cruel in the past week. In fact, it was almost as if remembering he was Arthur made Draco even more agitated and hateful. Harry knew he shouldn't take it personally, but it was slowly beginning to wear away at him. And as if all that wasn't bad enough, visions of Voldemort, Wormtail and another he did not know continued to disturb his sleep.

Harry sighed and allowed his head to fall back onto the pillow. It was late, and he knew there was no chance of proper rest but thought he might as well go through the motions of it.

 _Potter,_ a voice said.

Harry sat upright, glancing around cautiously.

 _Potter,_ it continued, more urgently this time.

But there was no one in the room, and Harry could not pinpoint its direction.

_Wait a second. The voice is from inside my head, and only one person calls me Potter. But Draco can't do telepathic conversation, can he?_

_Yes he can,_ the voice suddenly answered. _Balcony, now._

Harry pulled on his robes quickly and headed out of the common room, toward the balcony. Draco stood there with scrunching lines on his forehead and a general tenseness in his face.

"You're worried about something," Harry said. "You'd have to be to call me out here in the middle of the night. And how'd you figure out the mind talking thing anyway?"

"My mother was a Black, and they're descended from druids," Draco admitted. "I tried telepathy before but it never worked. Guess it's your lucky day."

"Great," Harry muttered.

Draco walked to the edge of the balcony and looked down.

"But that's not the reason I came to talk to you," he admitted.

"Then what is?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because let's be honest, you've been a right git to me all week."

"I know," he said.

Harry nearly fainted at the admission. Something was definitely wrong. He glanced at Draco again, this time looking for signs of worry. Draco was wearing an expression of vulnerability that made Harry pause.

"Not that it's any of your business," Draco began, "But my father plans on making me a Death Eater. He said it's time to show my loyalties."

Harry swallowed back the lump in his throat. "What? But how? Voldemort is dead!"

Though he knew that wasn't entirely true, if his dreams were anything to go by.

"That's not important either," Draco said.

"Not important!" Harry exclaimed. "Yes, it is! I thought death eaters were Voldemort's trusted few. Why would he ever allow anyone but him to give the mark?"

"There's someone who can," Draco said. "He's a death eater - a new one. Really powerful - like you."

Harry blanched. "Draco, you can't do this!"

"I _know_ I can't, you idiot," Draco spat. "Why do you think I called you out here? He says that there are whispers of the Dark Lord returning, and soon. He said I need to show my loyalties or my family will come under suspicion!"

Draco frowned, unconsciously gripping the rails more tightly, and glancing out into the darkness. "The question is what do I do about it?"

Harry looked at Draco with concern. "Well, you did the right thing by bringing this to my attention. Though I'm as stumped as you are at the moment."

"You're Merlin. You're meant to _advise me,_ " Draco said with annoyance.

There was a glare at that and Draco could hardly help the mirth that appeared in his eyes.

"Sorry that I can't come up with a solution on the spot," Harry spat, "When you were king you gave me a little more time to think."

"I don't have the luxury of time," Draco admitted.

"When?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"I don't know. Any day now."

Harry frowned.

Draco frowned too. "This would have been a lot easier before you mind-hexed me. Then I'd have just…"

"…been a Death Eater?" Harry finished, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what you _really_ want, Draco? Or do you just want it to be easy to decide? Oh, and I _didn't_ _mind-hex_ you, I'll have you know."

Draco closed his eyes, troubled.

"Things are never going to be easy again, are they?" he asked sadly.

"They will, but it will take a while," Harry admitted. "As for your father, for now it's best if you let him believe you're going along with it."

" _What!_ " Draco exclaimed, whipping around so fast his head nearly spun. "Are you saying I should _do it_ , Potter?"

"I'm saying," Harry said dryly, "That it's safer for you if he doesn't suspect that you're retaliating against him."

"I'll have that mark!"

"Which will make Voldemort think you can be trusted, Draco," Harry said. "When actually you're on our side."

The Slytherin student folded his arms. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," he muttered. "The Dark Mark is not just a tattoo. It's used to summon Voldemort's followers. It compels them to come. Not only that but it's believed that Voldemort actually has a connection with his followers through it. Do you really want to put me in the kind of situation where the Dark Lord can pluck information from my head?"

Harry sighed. "He won't be able to 'pluck' information from your head, Draco. I'll put a protection spell on you that prevents the use of the imperius curse. You'll have to come to me once you get the dark mark so I can adjust the spell to prevent you from being summoned if you don't want to."

"The Dark Lord will know," Draco said. "He'll know that something's wrong if he can't read my mind, or if he can't summon me."

"First of all, you need to stop calling him 'The Dark Lord.' He doesn't deserve a title like that. His name's Voldemort, or rather, Tom Riddle. Second, he's not back yet, Draco, and hopefully never will be. One step at a time. I'll look into it, see what kind of spells would work best."

Draco frowned. "How can you be so sure this will work?"

There was a grin. "Don't tell me you've forgotten who I am already," Harry said with pretend offense. "I do have a lot of tricks up my sleeve."

There was a pause, where Draco took that in. "About that," he muttered. "Tell me how it's fair that _you're_ the bloody king of wizards. Do you know how much it kills me to know that my magic is paltry compared to yours?"

Harry frowned. "Be thankful you were born with any magic at all. You could have been born a muggle."

Draco's eyes narrowed and his anger began to show. "Don't insult me, Potter. It's hardly just _any_ magic. I'm better than your Mudblood frie-"

Harry's eyes shone and Draco immediately slammed into the wall. "You're right about one thing: Hermione _is_ my friend, and being Arthur doesn't give you the _right_ to talk about her that way," he admonished. "Hermione one of the few witches alive who could still learn the old magic. You couldn't if your life depended on it."

A defeated but angry look came over Draco's face and Harry realized with a bit of shame that it was a remarkably harsh retort.

"I thought I knew you, Merlin," Draco spat. "You surprise me."

Harry was taken aback. In his moment of defending Hermione he'd not only offended Draco, but he'd offended Arthur to the point where Arthur had taken over Draco's body.

"Arthur, let him go," Harry said.

"No," Draco said. "I get that the word mudblood is unacceptable but going as far as to put me down because of my magic? So was I not good enough as a muggle king either?"

Harry folded his arms. "Listen, Arthur, you know that I have nothing but respect for..."

" _Do you?_ "

Harry huffed. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I don't like it when people insult my friends."

"You're a hypocrite, Merlin."

"And you're blowing this out of proportion. It never mattered to me whether you could do magic or not. We were friends. And honestly I'm ecstatic that you have magic this time around, I just find it ironic that you were born into a pure blood wizarding family."

And then Draco's eyes brightened, if just a little, before looking resigned, and a sigh escaped his lips. Harry could see that Arthur's hold over Draco had released. Draco glanced around with confusion a moment before pulling himself to a standing position.

"Seems I offended Arthur too," Harry admitted.  
  
Draco nodded. "If this feeling of wanting to throw something at you is anything to go by, then you definitely hit a nerve."  
  
There was a sigh. "Doesn't seem to matter how angry I am. I can't hate you. I've bloody well tried enough."

The two wizards stood at an impasse for a minute before Harry broke the silence. "Truce?" he asked cautiously.

Draco sighed. "Looks that way," he muttered. After all, it wasn't like he _had_ to be happy about it.

Silence settled in and Draco chanced a glance at Harry. The wizard looked forlorn and Arthur, seeming to have already forgiven Merlin, whispered, _he's upset, talk to him._  

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong, or just stand there like sulking statue all night?"

Harry glared. "Remember when I became the High Court Sorcerer?" he asked, glancing into the distance.

"What about it?" Draco asked. Arthur obligingly shared the memory.

"It took months to convince everyone I wasn't a threat, that I _hadn't_ enchanted you. Months of being shunned," he turned to Draco. "It's not any easier the second time around. The entire school is treating me like a pariah."

Draco snickered. "You _are_ a pariah."

"Oh shut up," Harry responded, but it was half-hearted. "Even Ron stopped talking to me. He thinks I put my name in the cup on purpose. Being Merlin doesn't help my case either."

The Slytherin wizard had to bite back a retort to leave _Weasley_ where he was, instead trying to think of something more soothing.

"And you've been out for blood lately, what with all the insults and hexes."

Draco sighed. "I'll do that less," he said uncomfortably. "I can't stop, you know that. People will suspect something."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Yeah I know. You can stop avoiding me though. You have to keep me informed if I'm going to help you with all this Dark Mark stuff."

"Yeah," Draco agreed. "I'll try."

"Does this mean you've accepted Arthur?"

That was a difficult question that Draco wasn't sure how to answer.

"No," he admitted. "I know he's in here, he's shown me some memories, but I still don't want this life."

Harry sighed. "That's your choice, but you don't have a lot of time."

"Yeah, I know," Draco admitted.

Harry nodded. There was a silence between them for a few moments, before Draco turned to walk away.

"Wait," Harry said

Draco paused.

"Thanks. For coming to talk, for letting Arthur out, even for a while."

"Just...don't count on it all the time, _Potter_ ," Draco said, and abruptly left.

The inflection on that one word gave him hope.

* * *

For the next little while, the reluctant friendship continued, along with the meetings on the balcony. Harry would sneak out of the Gryffindor common room when he thought no one was watching and meet Draco to talk. Sometimes they fought about anything and everything, sometimes they were quiet, and sometimes they just let themselves fall back into the comfort of old ways and talk like they had years ago. But then in the corridors, the classes, and the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts they were Harry and Draco again, Gryffindor and Slytherin, hated enemies.

And the first task came closer and closer…


End file.
